


Not a Rebellion, a Resistance

by skatzaa



Series: Carasynthia [3]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alderaan, F/F, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Post-The Mandalorian (TV) Season 1, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: For the sentence starter: "Your hair gets shorter every time I see you."
Relationships: Cara Dune/Leia Organa
Series: Carasynthia [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848388
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45
Collections: Party in the GFFA: Star Wars Flash Exchange 2020





	Not a Rebellion, a Resistance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SassySnowperson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassySnowperson/gifts).



> A prompt related to star wars femslash and hair? I couldn't resist.
> 
> ETA (7/45/20): Linking this together with my other Cara fic, because they could, theoretically, exist in the same universe, and because I have more that I want to write for her.

“Your hair gets shorter every time I see you.”

Cara doesn’t run a hand over her scalp to feel the rough stubble for herself, but it’s tempting. Instead, she pushes back from the grimy table in the corner of the grimy, pitifully empty cantina, stands, and turns around.

Leia smiles up at her, one side of her mouth pulling higher than the other. It’s a terrible smile, because it’s real, and it punches Cara right in the stomach like a stupid tether brawl misstep. But she’s too old to be playing tether brawl these days.

She crosses her arms across her chest and shifts back until she’s leaning against the lip of the table. She gives Leia a once over—from her steel gray hair to the old boots on her feet, even more cracked and worn than the last time Cara saw her wearing them—and says, “You’ve got no room to talk, Princess. You’ve gone gray from root to tip.”

Leia raises a sardonic eyebrow, but doesn’t say any of the (mostly true) things she could, including but not limited to Cara’s disrespect to their fallen home planet. It’s more than Cara can say for a lot of the other survivors she runs into. But then again, Leia Organa’s never been like any of the others.

Cara holds out for a second longer, then sighs and uncrosses her arms to gesture at the seat across from hers. A grin steals over her face, but she wrestles it into compliance.

“Come on,” she says, “sit down and tell me what you want this time. Unless you think I’m gonna need a stiffer drink first.”

Leia might not be a princess any longer, but she still has that knack for making someone feel like she’s rolling her eyes at them without doing anything so undignified. She sits, looking entirely too pristine to be in this hole-in-the-wall cantina on some planet most sentient beings have never heard of. Cara leans back in her chair, crosses her arms again, and doesn’t try to stop herself from smiling this time.

“Have you heard anything about the political dissidents that call themselves the First Order?”

Cara’s smile drops away.

“Yeah.” Yeah, she’s heard of them. They’ve been causing Din more trouble than he can handle out on the Outer Rim alone, considering he has his kid to raise, enough trouble that he’d commed her for backup only a couple of months ago. “Why?”

Leia takes a breath, deep enough that Cara can hear it. 

Forestalling any bad news—and it can only be bad, for Leia to expend valuable time and effort tracking her down to this shithole—Cara pushes the half-full glass across the table at her, liquid sloshing up toward the rim. No one could make brandy quite like an Alderaanian, but this stuff isn’t bad. 

Leia picks it up and tips it toward Cara, a sarcastic salute.

Then she throws her head back, downs the rest in one gulp, and slams the glass back down on the tabletop.

Well then.

It takes another few moments, but eventually, Leia says, “My people tell me that the First Order is a more significant threat than previously thought. And the Republic believes that acknowledging them as any sort of threat will only  _ help  _ them gain traction with the planets that are still unhappy with how the Civil War ended.”

So they’ll bury their heads in the sand. Unfortunate, but not surprising.

But that doesn’t explain...

Cara keeps her eyes fixed on Leia’s expressionless face as she uncrosses her arms and instead leans forward, bracing her arms on the edge of the table. She clasps her hands together and points at Leia, accusing.

“You’re building another Rebellion.”

Leia’s expression doesn’t move a millimeter. 

“You  _ are.” _ Cara scoffs and slumps back in her chair. She reaches up and scrubs a hand through the longer hair on the top of her head. Stars.

Leia leans forward a fraction of an inch, and Cara’s eyes snap right back to her.

“Not a Rebellion,” she says, and now Cara can see the fire in her eyes, the fire that once inspired whole systems to revolt. “A Resistance.”

* * *

  


Bonus:

Leia wants to leave immediately. She’s too well bred to say it has anything to do with Cara’s choice in drinking venues, but she’s pretty sure it’s a factor. 

“Wait,” Cara says, reaching out to brush two fingers against the back of Leia’s hand. 

She stops immediately, turning to look up at Cara.

The area outside the cantina is just as empty as the cantina itself, though it’s nearly night planetside. It’s not even a sidewalk, where they’re standing, just dirt and gravel. Cara leans back against the rough wooden siding of the building, tucked away under the torn and drooping awning, and doesn’t shy away when Leia comes to stand, unyielding, at her elbow. She glances down at the top of Leia’s head, and can’t help the way her stomach flips when she catches sight of the mourning twists—three of them, one for her planet, one for her family, and one for her son—nestled amongst the more elaborate braids.

Cara’s always been a lousy Alderaanian, even before the Destruction, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting, just a little.

She asks, “How’d you find me?”

“Why are you stalling?” Leia shoots back. Cara shrugs and raises an eyebrow:  _ humor me. _ “I like to keep an ear out if I can, see if I can tell what you’re up to. You have a way of… causing a fuss that’s hard to ignore.”

She shrugs again; guilty as charged.

“What does Mr. Solo-Organa think of you running off to places unknown, trying to recruit an old girlfriend to the cause?”

Leia laughs, a short, harsh sound, and leans back against the building with her. There’s the slightest slump to her shoulders; she must be completely exhausted, to let any of it show.

“Oh, you know Han.” Cara  _ does  _ know Han, from both their Rebellion days and from even  _ less  _ legal situations, which is why she asked in the first place. The man has a jealous streak a parsec wide, but it tended to rear its head at the strangest of times. “He ran off a couple years ago, after Ben… Well. It’s been long enough that he doesn’t  _ get _ an opinion anymore. Officially.”

Cara keeps her mouth shut on that front. They always did have a weird arrangement, but it wasn’t the weirdest she’d ever encountered.

“Still,” Leia says, softening. “It’s good to see you, Cara, really.”

Cara nudges her lightly, then pushes upright, stretching to peak out from underneath the awning. Satisfied it’s dark enough, she steps fully out and stares up at the sky. The light pollution is noticeable, but it isn’t bad enough to drown out planet-light.

“Alright, I’m done stalling,” she says, which earns her a wry snort. “C’mere and look up.”

Leia joins her a moment later. Out of the corner of her eye, Cara sees her tilt her chin back. Every child is taught to seek out the light of their homeworld, in case they’re ever too far from home, and Cara can see when Leia finds it. All the fight goes out of her in an instant.

Cara might be a lousy Alderaanian, but her eyes seek  _ home  _ out just as instinctively as others, and it’s just as heartbreaking for her when she can’t find it.

“This planet has almost nothing going for it, except for the fact that it faces rimward and it’s close to the core.”

“I did wonder why you were here,” Leia says, a little breathless, “since you never liked Hoth. But I understand now.”

Silence between them, as they stared up. After several moments, Cara reaches out and wraps her arm around Leia’s shoulder. She resists, at first, always too stubborn for her own good, but Cara can feel the exact moment when she gives in and leans fully into Cara’s side.

Finally, Cara tells her, “It’s good to see you too, Leia.”

Together, they stared up at the light of Alderaan, thirty-five years gone. Leia leans a little more into Cara’s side. 


End file.
